The Trouble With Harry
by elfinpi
Summary: Not much to say. I can't summarise yet...
1. Trouble With Harry

A/N: I'm just getting started!  Give me some ideas on what you think of it.  I won't be surprised if you think it's slow at first!

Spoilers: The HP series

I know you've all read this before, but I don't own Harry, or Hogwarts etc - they are the property of JK Rowling.

Harry sat by the desk, his quill floating in about four inches off his parchment, staring into space.

"Harry!" yelled a voice somewhere behind him.  Harry turned slowly to face Ron, who was wearing a puzzled look on his freckled face.

"We did _wingardium leviosa_ in the first year," he said to Harry, who appeared to be in a completely different world.

"Hmmmm?" said Harry, apparently returning to Gryffindor tower from wherever he had just been.

"You have been levitating your quill in front of you for the past ten minutes," explained the red-haired boy, "I was wondering if it was worth offering you a penny for your thoughts."

"Mine?" asked Harry, "not at all.  Not at all"

"Well it certainly wasn't Transfiguration," joked Ron.

"Transfiguration?" asked Harry, blankly.

"The essay you have in front of you?"

"Oh yes," answered Harry, vaguely.

"OK, so it definitely wasn't transfiguration.  What's up Harry?"

"Hmmmm?" said Harry again.

"Never mind," said Ron, "I'll just finish this, and then I'll leave you alone."

It wasn't like Harry to be so distant, and Ron wondered if he'd heard from Sirius recently.  He decided to meet up with Hermione for a brief discussion about their friend's mood.

As he was heading towards the library, where Hermione would almost certainly be, he was stopped by Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, on his way to the common room.

"Is Harry up there, Ron?" asked Oliver.

"Erm, no," answered Ron, deciding instantly that it was best Harry was left to himself for a while, "but I'm headed down to the library to find Hermione, he might be with her," he added quickly.

"No, it's ok, I just wanted to check that he was alright.  He didn't seem himself at practice this morning, and then he disappeared before I had time to talk to him.  Have you seen him since?" 

"Yes, he was working on his transfiguration essay just before lunch" said Ron truthfully.

"He seemed OK?"

"Yeah, well as OK as you can be when you're working on transfiguration."

"Right," laughed Oliver, "Thanks, Ron, I'll see you later."

Harry let his quill drop, blotting his parchment.  He'd only written three inches of what was expected to be three feet of essay.  He wasn't sure that he was concentrating on the task in hand; his mind kept wandering, and he frequently found himself staring out of the window along the roof of the school.

He'd had an owl that morning from Sirius, saying that he was fine, and that he was staying with Professor Lupin for a while, so why was he worrying?  He didn't know, but he was sure of one thing – he felt a headache coming on.

Harry abandoned the transfiguration essay temporarily, and decided to take a walk round the Hogwarts grounds.  He picked up his cloak and wand, and headed downstairs.  At first he wasn't sure of where he was going to go, but he felt himself walking towards the Quidditch pitch.  It did look odd from ground level, when you were used to being thirty feet above it.  

"Herm, have you spoken to Harry?" asked Ron, leaning over her shoulder.

"Not since breakfast," answered Hermione, not looking up from the potions textbook she was studying.  "Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

Ron gave up.  There was no point in trying to talk to Hermione when she was working.  He decided that the best course of action would be to talk to Harry himself.  Right now.

"Harry," he called, as he climbed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.  "Harry, I was just…"

"Ron!" shouted a muffled voice from the bed in the far corner.

"Neville?" asked Ron, cautiously.

"Help me, Ron!" squeaked the voice in Neville's bed.

Ron pulled back the cover to reveal Neville tied to the bed with magic cords.

"I was practising the tidying charm on my bedclothes, but I seem to have mistaken it for a binding charm," said Neville, turning red.

Ron tried to loosen the ropes, both magically and using his fingers, but every time he tried they pulled themselves tighter and tighter, making Neville squirm.

"Hey, a binding charm and a shrinking charm in one!" exclaimed Ron.

Neville just blushed.

"It could turn out useful, do you remember what you did?"

Neville flushed an even deeper red.

"Hang on, I'll fetch Hermione," he shouted, running to the stairs.

"Ron…" shouted Neville.

Harry sat on the grass under a tree by the broom-shed.  He was as puzzled about his own mood as Ron had been earlier.  *It must just be one of those days* he thought.

He sat watching the first years who had come to practise basic broom skills on the pitch, thinking about the time he had been one of them.  

He had been afraid of Hogwarts when he first started, he had so much to live up to – he was The Boy Who Lived.  But after the first few months, he'd started to realise that he was much more than that.  He was the one who had single-handedly saved the wizarding world from total domination.  Or something like that.  Harry wasn't sure he wanted that kind of pressure any more.  After all, it wasn't really him that had saved the world, it had been his mother, who had died in the process.

Was that it?  His mother?  There hadn't been a day when he hadn't thought of her.  No, it wasn't that.  Then what?  What was making him so preoccupied?

Harry stood up and brushed off his cloak.  He didn't know an awful lot more than he had when he'd come downstairs, but his headache had gone, and he felt more like talking.

He set off back to Gryffindor tower just as it began to rain.


	2. Solutions

A/N: Still need feedback, guys!!!

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the stuff I write about, in case you hadn't noticed, they belong to Ms Rowling.

When Ron got to the library, he was amazed to find that Hermione had left the seat she had occupied just moments before.

"Damn!" he exclaimed, before being almost forcibly removed from the library by Madam Pince.

"Damn!" he said again, once he was outside.

He decided to give up on the day, and start afresh after lunch

* * *

 The Common room was as empty as when he'd left it, and Harry was relieved.  There were times when he couldn't cope with company, and he feared that this was one of them.  It wasn't that he didn't appreciate all the help and support that Ron and Hermione offered, just that…

He didn't know.

He didn't feel for them the way he knew they deserved.

* * *

The Great Hall was already busy when Ron appeared in the doorway.  He looked up at the ceiling; clouds and an obstinate rainbow trying to break though them.

"Ah, it's as confused as I am," sighed Ron, plonking himself down next to Seamus.  

"What on earth, Ron?" questioned Seamus.

"The weather," said Ron, by way of explanation.

"Right." Seamus gave up; Ron was being weird.

Hermione took that moment to reappear from wherever she had been, and took her place opposite Ron.

"Hi!" she said, brightly.

Ron just gave her a puzzled look.

"What's up, Ron?" she asked.

"Where did you go?" 

"When?"

"Just now, you weren't in the library."

"Yes, I was, I've been there all morning."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look puzzled.

"But I just came from there, and you weren't in your seat…"  Ron's voice trailed off as he remembered Neville.

"Oh, Herm, we have to help Neville."

"Where is he, he'll miss lunch?"  
"Erm," said Ron, blushing on Neville's behalf, "well, he erm…"

"He…?" pushed Hermione.

"…tied himself to the bed," finished Ron.

"And you left him there?" squeaked Hermione.  "Oh, Ron, how could you?"

"I couldn't get him out, the ropes are charmed."

"What about _finite incantatem_?" asked Hermione.

Ron blushed for the second time in as many minutes.

* * *

Harry sat at the desk looking down at his scroll.  He'd nearly finished the essay, although he wasn't sure how much of it made sense, and was now thinking about his stomach.  He shouted out "_Accio_ watch!" and groaned as he realised he'd missed lunch.  He was just about to pack up his things when he heard the sound of people entering the portrait-hole at the bottom of the stairs.

Hermione's head appeared first, followed by the rest of her, and then Ron.  They called out a hasty greeting to Harry before running straight up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Harry turned back towards the desk, sighing.  It wasn't just him, after all.  He'd always been told that two was company and three a crowd…He had just never anticipated the spare part being him.

Heading off towards the library, Harry had time to consider his strange mood.  He knew that he was acting oddly, but he couldn't control it, or even explain it.  It was at times like this that he really felt the absence of his parents, but at the same time thanked his lucky stars for the existence of Sirius.  He'd know what to say, even if he wasn't sure what to do.

_Dear Sirius,_

_Thanks for writing; I know how difficult it must be trying to get letters out unnoticed.  I thought if I sent letters to you via Professor Lupin, they might reach you without being discovered._

_I have recently been a little under the weather, and I'm not really sure what's causing it, or what I can do to stop it.  I seem to be making Ron really upset when I don't talk to him, but I just don't want to.  I know I should trust him, and there is no reason not to, but the truth is I can't.  Hermione is spending all her time split between the library and Ron, and I haven't spoken to her for what feels like ages._

_Please keep in touch._

_Harry_

He left his seat in the library and set off towards the Owlery.  The evening was drawing in, and the wind was colder than Harry had noticed recently.  He drew his cloak round himself, and quickened his pace.

* * *

Ron and Hermione had successfully freed Neville from his bedposts, after a flash of inspiration on Hermione's part.  

"See, Ron, all it needed was a little bit of thought," grinned Hermione.

Ron just pouted at her and stuck his tongue out.

"Ah, you just wanted to see Neville tied to his bed for a little longer, didn't you?"  Hermione winked at him, knowingly.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Miss Know-it-all?"

"Nothing," she replied innocently, "What were you saying about Harry?"

"Erm, well, he was acting oddly this morning, and I wondered if he's said anything to you.  He hasn't mentioned anything to me, and I thought, maybe, well, you're his friend too, I guess."

"Ron, you look decidedly uncomfortable," pointed out Hermione.

"Nope," said Ron, shaking his head, but the truth was, he wasn't at all happy.  Harry was his best friend, and now he wouldn't even talk about what was obviously bothering him.

"Harry will tell you in his own time," Hermione said reassuringly, "but you can't make him."

"I suppose you're right.  Why on earth are you so sensible, Herm?"

* * *


End file.
